


Flight Log

by GoddessOfDestruction



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anger, Angst, Bickering, Canon Related, Character Death, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Swearing, and pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:52:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9694565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoddessOfDestruction/pseuds/GoddessOfDestruction
Summary: To put it in simple words: Mark, JB, Jackson, Jinyoung, Youngjae, Bambam and Yugyeom are seven twenty-some-year-old friends who decide to go on a camping trip. However, things don't work as they planned.(Chapter 4 is my *updated* 'Flight Log' trilogy theory)





	1. Adventure Of A Lifetime

_"If we've only got this life and this adventure, oh then I wanna share it with you"_

_\- "Adventure Of A Lifetime" by Coldplay_

~x~

“Another song or you’re too tired?”

Yugyeom had his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily, head hanging low. However, he looked up with a defying grin.

“I’m never tired. I could still dance to a whole album.”

Jungkook chuckled, walking in long strides to his laptop that was on the floor on the corner of the stage.

“We’ll see about that. Any suggestions?”

“Something of Shinhwa sunbaenims,” Yugyeom said, straightening his posture. “I think we’ve danced enough girls’ group choreos for today.”

Jungkook nodded and scrolled through his playlist. He grinned a sleazy grin as he pressed play. _This Love_ started playing. Yugyeom sighed contentedly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as he assumed Lee Minwoo's position and started dancing immediately, singing along. Jungkook rushed to Yugyeom's side, assuming Shin Hyesung's position. The two youngsters were giggling, knowing that the dance was full of Vogue-like moves, and snaps and jerks that made the choreography sensual in a very androgynous feel. When the song climaxed in the chorus, the two were already dancing in a serious, comfortable and dedicated way.

The song was almost ending when they noticed someone, a fellow student and their friend, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He wore a black cap, an oversized sleeveless shirt, and his shorts were dangling off his hips. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, giving away that he had just rolled out of bed. Yugyeom and Jungkook finished dancing and sat on the floor, feeling exhausted.

The sleepy boy, Jimin, took off his cap and ruffled his blond hair, “You guys started without me?”

“And we’ve finished without you,” Jungkook said. “You’re an hour late, hyung.”

“Ok, but in my defense, no one in their right mind gets up at 8 on a Saturday.”

“He’s got a point,” Yugyeom acknowledged.

“It’s your fault, though,” Jungkook pointed out. “If you didn’t have to go on your camping trip, we’d be having our dance practice later today, at 4, as usual.”

“Whatever,” Yugyeom mumbled. That was when he took a second look at Jimin and saw someone else entering the room. He tut-tutted, shaking his head, “Hyungs shouldn’t be late.”

Jongin looked around while trying to disguise the fact that he was still munching food around in his mouth. Next to him, Jimin looked, and smelled, clean and fresh, whilst Jungkook and Yugyeom were sweaty and visibly tired.

“You guys said 9:15, right?” Jongin asked, looking between them.

“No,” the maknaes responded in unison.

“Well, then hyung’s sorry, but breakfast –”

Jungkook chuckled, walking to his computer, to shut it down, “Of course. Food comes first for you, hyung.” 

“Can you blame me?” Jongin shrugged, not at all guilty for having chosen food over dance practice.

“Well guys, I’d stay and practice with you,” Yugyeom began as he picked up his sweatshirt off the floor, “but I have to shower. Me and my friends –”

“Are gonna camp this weekend. You’ve bragged about that enough already,” Jungkook grumbled, a small hint of jealousy in his tone. “Just leave already.”  

Yugyeom grinned before tapping Jimin and Jongin’s shoulders and leaving the room. Jungkook was about to leave too, computer under his arm, when Jimin stopped him.

“Can we borrow your computer? I didn’t even bring my phone, and…” Jimin looked at Jongin.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything either and we can’t exactly dance without music.”

“You could try,” Jungkook replied sarcastically, being the little cocky shit that he was.

Jimin rolled his eyes, “I’ll give it to you later.”

“Have fun, hyungs,” Jungkook said, passing over his laptop.

Despite the fact of both being an hour later and missing the dance practice that usually happened with four people, Jongin and Jimin were more than happy to dance alone. Yugyeom and Jungkook had studied, and preferred, street dance. Even though Jimin had tried different styles, including dancing popping since 8th grade, he had studied modern/contemporary dance while in high school, and Jongin had had ballet classes when he was younger. When the two of them had the rare chances of practicing alone, they took the time to dance other genres that their bodies were slightly more familiar with.

Yugyeom leisurely strolled his way back to his room, sweatshirt thrown over his shoulder. Once he entered, he was faced with the sight of his roommate, Bambam, still sleeping. He grinned as he approached him, and teased the Thai’s foot that was dangling off his bed. Bambam threw a sleepy kick and grumbled in his sleep. With a growing pain in his stomach, Yugyeom now regretted having messed with the long-legged boy. Nonetheless, and once he was recovered, he shook Bambam awake because he spent a whole century getting ready.

“Wha’ ya want?” Bambam mumbled, squinting. He rolled into bed and managed to wrap himself in the bedsheets and become a human burrito.

“Get up, Bam,” Yugyeom said, going through his drawers, throwing clean clothes over to his bed. “Hyungs are gonna be here in a while and they’ll leave you in the dorms if you’re not ready on time.”

Bambam wrestled with the bedsheets until he managed to kick them back and swung his feet off bed and down on the floor, “I’m gonna take a shower then.”

“No you’re not,” Yugyeom grabbed his towel hurriedly. “You always nab my favorite shower stall.”

“You know I don’t like showering in the other stalls. They smell weird… and I’m pretty sure that someone pisses in that third one. Is he marking the territory like a dog or something?”

“Everyone takes a piss while showering.”

Bambam scrunched his nose in disgust, “Ew.”

“Like you don’t do that too,” Yugyeom said under his breath. “Anyway, I’m gonna shower.”

When Yugyeom was back some twenty minutes later, he heard the loud voice of Jackson Wang speaking to Bambam.

" _Bam, for Christ's sake, we're going camping for a weekend, not to Seoul Fashion Week. Can you hurry up?_ "

Once he swung the door open, Yugyeom realized that his roommate had given up on the idea of taking a shower, as he was already dressed up and applying make-up. Jackson was sprawled over his bed, letting out a loud puff of air, which could be interpreted as ‘I'm bored’. Yugyeom didn’t say a word and started getting ready, Jackson and Bambam’s bickering being the unrequested soundtrack that filled the room.

"I need to be on point," Bambam justified.

"There's only gonna be us. There's no need to be _on point_ ," Jackson air quoted.

“What are you even doing here?”

Jackson heaved another sigh, “Jinyoung left the room early. ‘pparently he went over to the creative writing students’ writing corner. Something to do with the short film they’re preparing. Mark hyung won’t be here for another half hour, JB hyung is still with Youngjae at the auditions and I’ve packed my stuff. What else can I do?”

“Not bother me,” Bambam said, facing the mirror, mascara wand hovering around his eye. “If you don’t shut up I might stab myself in the eye.”

“You two…” Jackson growled, pointing at them. “I’m your hyung and you guys disrespect me.”

Yugyeom, in the midst of putting on his pants, spoke, “What did I even do?”

Before Jackson could whine again, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Jaebum.

“JB hyung said that Youngjae just left the audition and that they’re gonna have breakfast. Mark hyung will pick them up on the way here,” Jackson told his friends, giving them the gist of what the text message contained.

“Did Youngjae hyung pass the audition?” Yugyeom asked.

“Judging by the sad emoji, I’d say no.”

Bambam sighed, “That’s too bad. But it’s his fault. He’s too shy and nervous for his own good.”

~x~

Jaebum had been feeling like he was going to throw up for a solid hour now, but the nauseating feeling intensified once Youngjae walked in the room for his audition. Youngjae had practically dragged himself to that room, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of the oversized hoodie that clearly didn’t belong to him. Jaebum knew that if Youngjae would keep that same posture before the audition's judge, he'd fail. Again. There was something about an audience watching him that made Youngjae a stuttering, nervous mess, which was a shame because he had the talent and the passion for singing.

A warm hand rested on Jaebum's knee, and only then he realized he hadn't stopped trotting his leg. Looking to his side, he saw a girl with growing red cheeks smiling at him.

"Don't be nervous," she said.

She retreated her hand when they made eye contact, and bit her bottom lip, looking down at her lap.

"I'm not - I'm not auditing. I'm just waiting for my friend. He tends to get really nervous. He's a great singer, but he has a low self-esteem and doesn't feel comfortable singing for other people yet." Jaebum smiled a little before adding, "I even let him borrow my hoodies whenever he's nervous. They're like a security blanket for him."

"Aw," she cooed, "that's so sweet of you. He's lucky to have you as a friend." The girl stretched out her hand to introduce herself, "I'm -"

However, Jaebum cut her short and got up abruptly, following Youngjae who had just out of the room and scurried his way down the hall.

"Youngjae!" Jaebum called, to no avail.

He sped up his pace and entered the bathroom. Jaebum did the same. Youngjae was gripping the edges of the washbasin, head hanging low. He didn't even have to look up to know that Jaebum had walked in; his shaky sigh gave him away. Whatever happened to Youngjae, good or bad, always made Jaebum melt like butter in the sun. Everyone knew that Jaebum had a soft spot for Youngjae, the boy who was a human ray of sunshine.

"It happened again, hyung. I opened my mouth, I could barely sing in tune or in tempo, and my voice came out strangled no matter how much I tried." He tightened his grip around the washbasin, his knuckles turning white. "Maybe everyone's right. I'm not made for this."

"You just need to work on getting loose and on controlling your nervousness. You've got talent, Jae; you just need to learn how to channel it out. And you definitively need to believe in yourself."

"How can I believe in myself when nobody does?" He asked, staring at his reflection in the mirror, eyes filled with tears that he didn't know for how much longer he could hold on.

"Thanks for calling me nobody," Jaebum said, managing to get a little smile from Youngjae. He put his hands on his friend's shoulders and gave them a soft squeeze, "I'm on my fourth failed audition and I'd be lying if I'd say it isn't frustrating and that it doesn't upset me. We still have a lot to learn, and things won't be easy, but we're gonna make it. Even if it takes a day or fifteen years."

Youngjae looked down again and sobbed quietly, hot tears streaming down his face. Jaebum turned Youngjae's body to face his and pulled him for a hug. He cried harder, his breathing quickened, matching the increasingly faster beats of his heart. It was aching him, feeling his heart thump so violently in his ribcage and not being able to calm down. He hated it. He hated that he was always too shy, too scared, too defenseless, too frail, too dependent on others. He hated when all these feelings came crashing down on him and he couldn't pull himself together.

"Youngjae?" Jaebum's voice was soft, feeling his friend's fast beating heart hammering against his chest.

Youngjae’s fingers knotted in the material of Jaebum’s shirt when he felt his legs turning to jelly. As he felt his body getting numb and heavier, he clawed Jaebum’s back before he’d fall to his knees. Jaebum held him tight against his body and dragged him closer to the tiled wall, so that he could sit down and lean back. He had helped Youngjae dealing with situations like this before, but it didn’t mean he liked having to deal with them in the first place.

“Do you need –” Jaebum began, hand already moving to his pocket, to whip out his phone.

“It’s okay,” Youngjae brought his hand to his chest, clutching the hoodie’s fabric, “I think I can handle it, hyung.”

Jaebum nodded and walked to the washbasin. He wetted his hands in the cold water from the running tap and made his way back to Youngjae. The youngest, almost choking on his tears, hissed at the temperature difference when Jaebum put his cold, wet hands on his cheeks. He repeated the gesture a couple more times, refreshing Youngjae’s face and neck. Then, Jaebum sat down in front of Youngjae and loosened his grip on his hoodie. He placed his flat hand on Youngjae’s chest, right over the heart area, and began rubbing the region in soothing, circular motion.

He remembered when he was a little boy and had stomach aches his mother would rub his belly. The action didn’t have any healing effects, but it comforted him. Jaebum hoped that every time he did that to Youngjae, he’d be comforting and calming him down as well.

The two were silent for a long while; Youngjae had closed his eyes and was solely focused on regaining control of his body, while Jaebum trying his best to help his friend. Bit by bit, Youngjae began breathing more peacefully, and Jaebum felt that his heart was falling into steadier beats.

“I’m sorry,” Youngjae blurted, opening his eyes.

“For having a heart problem?”

“For being so dependent.”

Jaebum offered a cheeky grin as he got up, holding out his hand to pull Youngjae to his feet as well, “I know worst people.”

Youngjae held onto Jaebum’s hand and pushed himself off the ground with an ‘aigoo’ that resembled the mumble of an ahjussi with back problems.

“Come on,” Jaebum patted Youngjae’s back, “let’s get something to eat before we head to dorms and meet with the rest of the guys. Hyung’s paying.” 

“Right, our trip’s today.”

“Do you feel okay to go?”

Youngjae nodded, “Yeah. Besides, I need to unwind.”

~x~

If Jackson had a tail, he sure would be wagging it. He was so happy that he was filming himself singing a song from cartoons. A song from a kid’s fucking cartoon.

“We're going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship, zooming through the sky –”

“Can you stop, please?” Jinyoung begged, fingers pressed to his temples, moving in slow circles.

He was on the verge of a headache because no one in the world could ever be as hyped as Jackson.

“Oh, c’mon, live a little,” Jackson draped his arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders, cuddling him close to his side. “We’re going on a trip.”

“We’re going camping for three days. We’ll barely have time to do anything in such short time. We should do this trip when Bambam and Yugyeom graduate.”

“You wish!” Yugyeom grumbled. Jackson turned the camera to him. “When Bambam and I are graduated, you’re all already done with college and you’ll leave us behind.”

Jinyoung shook his head, “That’s nonsense. We’re not gonna forget about you guys just because we graduate first.”

“You say that now, but –”

“Oh,” Jackson cut Bambam mid-sentence, “I see Mark hyung.” He began frantically waving his free hand in the air to let Mark know where they were.

Mark parked across the campus’ entrance. Youngjae and Jaebum stepped out of the van and immediately walked to their room, to fetch their bags. Mark got out of the van as well, as Jaebum had already insisted that he’d be driving. He didn’t mind a bit not being the driver; that meant being in the backseat, relaxed, sharing one or two words with Jinyoung, all while keeping an eye on his donsaengs.

They all made their way to Mark. Between a polite bow, a couple of hugs, and a few high-fives and fist bumps, Jinyoung and the two maknaes greeted Mark. Jackson, however, went for a rib-crushing hug.

“Ow,” Mark whined.

He stood on the tip of his toes, his thin body frame pressed (read: ‘tightly crushed’) against Jackson’s body.

Jackson let go of his hyung and took a step back, “Sorry, but I’m just really happy to see you. Can you even be seen hanging out with us?”

Bambam pulled a weird face while putting his bag in the trunk, “Are you saying that we’re a bad influence on him or something?”

“No,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “but hyung’s really famous now.”

Now Mark rolled his eyes. “A, I’m not _really famous_. And B, even if I was famous, I don’t think anyone would mind if I’d hang out with my old college friends. I know I wouldn’t.”

Mark had once been an Acting student. He only made it to the first semester of the second year, when one of his teachers, who had a friend who was a fashion photographer, told him that maybe he should think about going for a modeling career. As expected, Mark had all the right attributes to consider his chances as a model. Conciliating his studies with the occasional shoots was easy at first. Then Mark discovered talents he didn’t know he had – like rapping or dancing – and learned that capabilities he had – doing acrobatics – counted as a talent. He began landing jobs as a background actor or as a background dancer. People began noticing him, and so Mark had to drop out of college and get an agent to manage his career that was slowly getting successful.

“You’ve got an ad poster on the freaking bus stop!” Jackson said, a little bit too loud, but oh well, he was always loud.

Mark was going to speak but Yugyeom beat him to it, “He has that poster on his room.”

There was no denying: Jackson was Mark’s biggest fanboy.

“How?” That was all Mark asked.

“Well,” the youngest continued, “he saw the ad on a bus stop nearby and he went there during the night, smashed the glass and stole it.”

“If you wanted the photo, you could have asked me.”

Bambam chuckled, “Where would be the fun in that?”

“I take it you went with him?” Mark assumed, looking at the Thai.

“Of course!”

They all shared a laugh. Mark couldn’t really ask for anything else; he had the most supporting friends anyone could ever ask for.

“A couple more months and Jinyoungie will be the one getting ads in bus stops,” Mark said, casting a glance at his donsaeng.

Jinyoung smiled, his eyes crinkling, feeling shy all of the sudden. He even let out a little giggle, covering his mouth with his hand. Jackson, who hadn’t yet turned off the camera, was amusingly filming his hyung’s shyness. Yugyeom and Bambam were playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’ to know who’d be skinny dipping in the river nearby the campsite. The two Jae’s showed up, Jaebum with his backpack slung over one shoulder, Youngjae adjusting  the strap of the sports’ bag in the shoulder.

“I think we’re ready to go,” Mark said, handing the van’s keys to Jaebum.


	2. Drag Me Down

_"If I didn't have you there would be nothing left"_

_-"Drag Me Down" by One Direction_

~x~

Jaebum drove undisturbed, Youngjae was next to him, being on his knees on the seat, turning back to talk and mess around with his friends. Bambam was on the back seat of the van, sleeping, so far, peacefully. It wouldn’t take much long for his friends to mess with him too because, well, that was what they did best. Jinyoung and Mark sat quietly, the oldest one with one earphone in his ear. Yugyeom and Jackson were the only two who couldn’t keep quiet or still.

“I don’t have money to buy meat!” Jackson mumbled as he fiddled with the camera; Yugyeom hadn’t yet stopped begging him to buy meat. “I’ll buy it if I can. Look at the camera,” he turned to Jinyoung who sat across from him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, Jinyoung!” He giggled like a little kid once he got his attention, “Park Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung stared into the camera, goggle-eyed, as Jackson zoomed in on his face.

“Oh, stop acting so cute,” Jackson said, filming Yugyeom who was doing his best aegyo pose, hands cradling his face, a cute little smile and a lovey-dovey gaze. “It’s hard to look at you.”

Soon enough they were all trying to look cute on camera, and that cued to second-hand embarrassment and a lot of cringe, pillows were being thrown back and forth in the van. Apparently Youngjae’s aegyo was considered the most awkward.

“Don’t throw it too hard! Don’t throw it too hard!” Jackson begged, trying to dodge the pillows that were being thrown at him. He should know when to keep his mouth shut and not comment about others...

One of the said pillows fell in the backseat of the van. When Yugyeom turned to pick it up (with the sole purpose of assaulting Jackson again), he noticed Bambam deep asleep. Seriously deep asleep because they were being, as usual, loud as hell, and he didn’t even bat an eye. The maknae chew on his lip, trying not to laugh, as he pointed at his roommate and told the others that he was sleeping. He pressed his finger against his lips, asking them to be quiet. The mood quieted so quickly that Jaebum stole a glance at them through the rearview mirror. He smirked as he shook his head.

“Shh,” Jackson’s voice was quiet as he recorded Yugyeom, “let’s draw quickly.”

Yugyeom leaned over the seat and began doodling on Bambam’s face.

“Can I draw a dick?”

Jackson sent him a reproving look, “Language, Gyeomie!”

Jinyoung, who was now also leaning on the seat to contemplate Yugyeom’s work of art, chuckled, “When did the _wild and sexy_ Wang became so puritan?”

“Yah, don’t say those things on camera. I’m not _wild and sexy_.”

“He promised he’d show his mother the video of our trip,” Mark explained, practically whispering in Jinyoung’s ear, as he leaned over him, hands resting on his donsaeng’s shoulders.

“Exactly,” Jackson nodded. “So can you all please keep this suitable for all audiences?”

They were all trying their best to hold in their laughter as they looked at Bambam; Yugyeom drew on him a monocle, a twirly moustache and a pointed goatee, a smiley face and a pair of wings on each side of the word ‘Hi’. Youngjae craned his neck, trying to see what they were laughing about. He was about climb into the backseat when Jaebum curled one finger on his pants’ belt loop and pulled him back down.  

Jackson shook Bambam awake. The poor boy sat up, still half-asleep, and not understanding at all while everyone was laughing. The maknaes’ – and Jackson’s – shenaningans continued, Jinyoung and Mark watching them fondly with a small smile. What a nice day. They had been on the road for such a little time now, and yet, everything felt so good, so perfect. The sense of freedom and peacefulness was almost touchable.   

“Here,” Mark picked up the earphone that he wasn’t using and put it in Jinyoung’s ear, “been hooked on this song for a week now.”

Jinyoung let the music lull him to sleep, head resting against the window.

There were some sudden violent movements that made Jinyoung’s heart beat a little faster, but the turbulence didn’t disturb him. Jinyoung opened his eyes when he heard his friends making too much noise. He was on a plane –

What?

When did that happen?

He had his seatbelt on, the plane was shaking, red lights blinking, and his friends were roughhousing as if they weren’t on board of a crashing plane. Jinyoung trying to unfasten his seatbelt to tell them to sit down when a flight attendant showed up out of _no-fucking-where_ and told him to stay seated. He complied but couldn’t help but to feel confused and concerned. How the hell did they get on a plane, and why weren’t his friends panicking like he was? They were going to crash and apparently he was the only one worried about it!

Jinyoung heaved, air getting rarer, as he leaned back on his seat, feeling like it was swallowing him. He felt like his chest was going to cave in, his heart beating so fast that it resembled a ticking bomb ready to go off at any second. It got to the point where Jinyoung could only gasp, fear taking over him.

" _We're losing him._ "

Who said that?

At this point, Jinyoung was far too confused to process a thought. He felt like he was being pulled into a heavy black cloud that was sucking the life out of him. He wasn't sure anymore if being on that plane was real or not; everything seemed too vivid. He closed his eyes and hoped that soon it’d all be over.

And then it all ended, just like that. The blend of distorted noises hushed, pain and fear were gone, and he felt lighter than ever. So Jinyoung opened his eyes. Fog surrounded him. He tried to see past through it, but he couldn't. He strained to listen even to the tiniest noise, but there were none. He tried to shout, but his voice was gone. He tried to run, but it seemed like his legs weren't carrying him anywhere, finding himself in the same place again and again. Fear took his body of assault again. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, in hopes that he'd calm down. This nightmare was terrifying and never ending.

Jinyoung found himself standing on the edge of a tall building. Above him, a beautiful sky, a shy morning sun behind him. Looking down, he saw fog and the ground really, _really_ down there. How did he even get up there? It didn't matter because something was compelling Jinyoung to jump. No, jump wasn't the right word. Something was compelling Jinyoung to let go, to spread his arms and let himself fall. And so he did. He opened his arms, leaned forward and the fall was so smooth that it didn't feel like he was falling. And he wasn't. He was flying, wind whipping at his coat, gently caressing his cheeks. It was breathtaking, surreal. It felt so amazing that he closed his eyes and relished in that strangely comforting feeling. Everything was moving slowly, the fog suddenly mistaken for a cloudy sky. His eyes flew open and he saw Mark and Yugyeom flying to his left, Bambam and Youngjae to his right.

But… men only fly in their dreams… That was when the penny dropped. This was a nightmare.

The boys continued to fly up in the sky.

Jinyoung was being plummeted down to Earth.

It was if someone had pressed 'play' and the slow-motion movie that Jinyoung was living in resumed to normal speed.

The ground was rushing at him instead of the other way round; the wind was callous and deafening now as he continued to fall and fall and fall. It seemed like his fall was perpetual and that he was trapped in a loop in which the ground was getting closer and yet he was nowhere even near it. Jinyoung didn’t know what he was scarier: if being stuck in an endless fall or hitting the ground. He closed his eyes and counted in his head, waiting for the impact. One. Two. Th –

His eyes fluttered open. Jinyoung arched his back, inhaling sharply. His whole world was spinning around, everything was blurry. An EMT tried to put an oxygen mask on him but Jinyoung groaned and swatted the hand away. Shit, that hurt. His whole body hurt.

A hand came to rest on his chest, “Sir, I need you to stay calm, please.”

_Fuck you! You try to stay calm when your whole body hurts and you don’t know what the hell is going on!_

Jinyoung found himself too weak and too sore to fight the EMT, letting her put an oxygen mask and a cervical collar on him. While she was quickly scribbling on a clipboard a string of barely readable information on Jinyoung’s condition, he was trying to get his bearings. He could hear cries of pain but he couldn’t tell to whom the belonged. But they were coming from a lot of people. He could hear sirens and the rotating lights of the ambulances were blinding him. When he was about to fall unconscious again, a sharp, pained shout made him force himself to stay awake for a while more.

“Hyung, wake up!”

It was Youngjae’s voice.

_I’m awake, Youngjae. Youngj…? The boys! Shit, did we crash?_

“Hyung, please!” he plead in such a heartbreaking tone that it was evident that he was in agony, crying his eyes out.

_I’m awa – I’m not your only hyung. Who is it? Who’s hurt?_

Another EMT approached Jinyoung, to help wheeling him into the ambulance. He desperately tried to get up to look for his friends, but he was already strapped to the gurney. However he managed to see, from afar, the pitiful image of the always sunny Youngjae all bruised and battered, sobs racking his small frame, as he smacked someone’s chest. An EMT tried to pull him away but he wouldn’t bulge, holding on tight to the clothes of whoever was on the ground. A second EMT came to help and they finally took Youngjae away, revealing the boy with a defined jawline, simply lying there, motionless. There was no one rushing to his side to help him. Was he – No, Jinyoung tried not to consider that thought.

“Jinyoung!” Jackson’s face popped up in front of him, frantically running his hands through his hair and face. He seemed so shook up. “You’re ok?”

He had a cut on his brow, thick, maroon blood trickling down the side of his face. Jinyoung noticed a few more cuts on Jackson’s bare arms, but he didn’t appear to be badly injured.

“We need to take him,” someone told Jackson.

He nodded and backed off immediately, letting the professionals do their job. However, he still managed to yell a couple of encouraging words before Jinyoung was inside the ambulance.

~x~

Jackson walked in shuffled steps, a blanket draped over his shoulders. Mark looked at him and heaved a long, deep sigh. He had just been examined, his cuts patched up, and if he was here, then it meant that he had nothing broken or dislocated. Physically, he was fine. Emotionally, Jackson was a wreck, Mark could tell. His eyes were red and puffed, and couldn’t tear his gaze from the floor. Jackson sat on one of the chairs of the long corridor and let his head rest back against the cold wall. He casted a look at Mark who was standing near the large windows, eyes focused on the skyline. Feeling Jackson’s gaze on him (and also because he saw on the reflection in the window that he was looking at him), Mark slowly swirled on his heels and walked the way to his friend in small steps. They sat side by side, in absolute silence, and they discover something about themselves that they didn't want, or needed, to know: when in pain Jackson cried, and Mark, who was usually quiet, ranted.

Jackson was crying because he had never felt like that before, not even when he left his parents in Hong Kong and moved to Korea. No, this pain was tearing at his heart, and all he could think about was that this was the universe’s way of telling him to start acting his age, once and for all.

“Did you go to see the maknaes?” Jackson asked in between sobs.

Mark shook his head. “I – I can’t... Bam and Yugyeom are all banged up and the nurses had to sedate Youngjae. They’ll ask about… and I – I don’t have the heart to tell them that –”

“Shh. Don’t say it. If you say it, it becomes real.”

“It’s already real, Jackson,” Mark’s jaw tightened. “Jaebum’s dead.” He said quietly, “I was supposed to be the one driving.”

“Hyung…” Jackson blinked, trying to stop his tears.

“It’s no-one’s fault, I know. We could have crashed even if I was driving. Jaebum could still be dead, even if he was in the back. I know, I know all that,” Mark kept his head hanging low, tears dropping from the tip of nose and falling on his jeans. “I just can’t help thinking about what I could have done different.”

Jackson clapped Mark’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Why did You do this?” Mark shouted, looking up, the veins in his neck popping out. “What did we do to deserve this?”

His parents had raised him as a Christian; he believed in a fair God who looked after those who believed in Him. But right now his faith was wavering. What did Jaebum did so bad that the only way to fix it would be to take away his life? 

“You know what’s worst?” Mark continued. “While you were being examined, a woman came asking for next-of-kin’s contacts. She offered me the phone to call everyone’s parents. I told Jaebum’s parents that we had an accident and it won’t be long until they’re here, wanting to see their son, _alive_ , but someone will take them to the morgue and…” he growled, unable to control his anger and pain. “I didn’t even call Bambam’s mother. I thought why worry the woman but then again, she deserves to know and Bam deserves to have someone by his side.”

“Did you call her?”

Mark shook his head and added, “I didn’t call your parents either. It’s up to you –”

“No, no. No need to worry them. I’m fine.” He swallowed hard before asking, “And Jinyoung? Any news on him?”

“In surgery. I have no fucking idea of what’s wrong with him.” Mark sighed shakily, “Actually I have no fucking idea about anything. I can’t deal with this, Jackson. I just _fucking_ can’t, but I should because I’m the oldest –”

“No, don’t,” Jackson held Mark’s face and stared into his eyes, “don’t do that yourself. You can’t and you _won’t_ carry this burden alone. Now, let’s tell Yugyeom and Bambam about everything that’s happening –”

“I can’t,” Mark mewled.

“Yes, you can. They deserve to know from us, not from any doctor or nurse. We’re going to tell them, and when Youngjae wakes up, we’ll tell him too and when Jinyoung awakes up, we’ll tell him and we'll support each other like we always do. We have to do this, hyung,” Jackson said, his voice cracking here and there. 

Mark slowly nodded his head, understanding that this was what they had to do. And so the two stood up, took a deep breath and made their way to the infirmary.


	3. Breakeven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s an additional note at the bottom, explaining some things. Be sure to read it. Chapter 4 is my ‘Flight Log’ trilogy theory. It was supposed to be in the end notes of this chapter but my brief theory got a little bit long. Read it if you want.

 " _'Cause when a heart breaks no it don't break even"_

_\- "Breakeven" by The Script_

_~x~_

_A few weeks later_

Mark looked at his boarding pass once again. He sighed, absentmindedly flipping through the pages of his passport, determined to go through with it. He was waiting in line, ready to board in but was starting to regret having bought the ticket in the first place. He tried to stay around, to support his friends and to be the oldest, mature person they could count on, but he didn’t find himself capable of being that person. He was feeling homesick, he missed his family, and he missed the Californian sun and the days that seemed never ending, there, in the Golden State. But Mark knew that he’d be missing his friends, who, once they learned about his decision to go back to the States for the time being, supported his decision. They knew that everyone had their own way of coping, and if Mark’s was to go back home, to search some comfort in his parents’ company, then they had to accept it, whether they liked it or not.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” the gate agent greeted him with a smile. “May I see your boarding pass and passport?”

Mark took a deep breath, “Can I cancel my ticket? I – I don’t wanna go anymore.”

The woman, a bit taken aback, nodded and took note that he wouldn’t be boarding in. She then politely indicated him the way to the airline’s counter, so that he could fix the situation, telling him that he’d probably not be able to get a refund. But Mark didn’t care about the money. He just wanted to go back.  When he texted Jackson saying that he hadn’t boarded in the plane, and when Jackson told him how everyone was doing, Mark knew that he made the right decision. One day, maybe, he'd make the trip to California and invite the boys to go with him; he was sure his parents wouldn't mind welcoming them for a few days.

~x~

“Can you…” Jinyoung looked up from his book. “Can you t – talk or something?”

Jackson, scrolling through his news’ feed on his phone, looked at his roommate with sleep-crusty eyes. “I thought you liked silence to read.”

“And I do. It’s j – j – ust,” he put the book aside, “you don’t t - talk anymore. Ever since th – th - the accident you’ve b - been qui…” he stopped to take a breath – there were sounds that were now harder to pronounce. He then restarted, “Quieter. It doe – doe – doesn’t feel like you.”

“A lot changed since then. You’d know better than anyone else.”

Jinyoung swallowed hard, looking down at his lap.

Jackson sat up in bed, “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m just sleepy. I’m not thinking things through.”

He tried to rephrase what he had said but he knew that there was no way to unsay things. He mentally punched himself; he knew he had fucked it up.

“No, you - you’re right,” Jinyoung nodded, grabbing his book again. “Things ch… changed. I’m gonna be a stu – tu – ttering actor. It’s c – c – cool.”

“The doctors said it’s reversible. You just need to go to the sessions with the speech therapist and it’ll all be good. You just gotta speak a lot – wait, is that why you asked me to talk? Do you wanna talk? ‘cause if you need –”

“Shut up.”

“Jinyoungie, –”

He sulked, furrowing his brows, “N – n – no. Sh – shut up.”

Jackson walked to his roommate, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He gave his knee a gentle tap, “I’m sorry. I’ve been a shit friend. I'm –”

“’m readin’,” Jinyoung grumbled in a low tone, swatting away Jackson’s hand.

He sighed, making the way back to his bed. “I’m here if you need me, Youngie.”

Jinyoung earmarked the page he was reading and grabbed his jacket on the way out the door, closing it with a slam. Jackson let his body fall back on the mattress.

“Way to go, Jackson,” he silently mumbled to himself.

The alarm that he had set (in case he’d ever fall asleep) went off. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the things he’d need for the afternoon class. He knew he wouldn’t be seeing Jinyoung until the evening. That would be if Jinyoung was willing to return to the room at all that night. He always liked the library; it wouldn’t surprise Jackson if Jinyoung would spend the night there, reading books and avoiding everyone.

On his way to his class, Jackson checked his phone because it had buzzed, but he hadn’t yet checked who had texted him. He nearly tripped on his feet.

**Dimsum**

>I canceled the flight.

_16:04_

What? Ur in Korea?<

_16:06_

>Yup. I’ll explain at dinner…? U guys up 4 it?

_16:10  
_

That gonna be hard…<

I fucked up with Youngie.<

And JB’s parents are coming to the dorms today.<

_16:12  
_

And well, Yugbam are off their heads.<

Still.<

I can’t understand em anymore.<

_16:13  
_

>Tell em. Dinner at my apartment. 8:30.

>I’m buying soju cause we all need it.

_16:18  
_

**DabDab, JYP Jr., Gwiyomi, Sunny Jae, JB**

>Dinner at Mark’s. 8:30. Yeah he’s in Korea. Don’t be late!!

_16:21  
_

Only after hitting ‘send’ Jackson realized that he had also texted Jaebum. He sighed, thinking that maybe it was time to erase his number from his contacts’ list.

~x~

Youngjae was too into the song he was playing on the piano that it took him three buzzes of his phone in his pocket to bring him back to reality. He had set an alarm so that he wouldn’t lose track of time; Jaebum’s parents were coming to the dorms and Youngjae wanted to be there. They were coming to take away their son’s belongings. It was with a great deal of grief that the boys put all of Jaebum’s stuff in card boxes, everything ready for Mr. and Mrs. Im to take them home. Youngjae sighed as he turned the alarm off. He read Jackson’s text and shoved the phone back in his jacket’s pocket. He gathered his notebook, filled with lyrics and piano pieces, and crammed it under his arm. Youngjae pressed his hands on the top of the piano to push himself into a standing position and reached for the crutches. He was on his knees on the seat when they crashed into the other car; the van was overturned, Youngjae got stuck, and ended up breaking his leg. However, he barely remembered the pain of having broken his leg. He could only remember the horrid image of the person he looked up to the most, barely breathing and coughing up blood, dying in his arms. Youngjae shook his head, trying to get that image out of his head, but he knew that that night it’d all come back to his head, to haunt him in his dreams, as it so often happened.

He was walking in a comfortable pace until he entered the dorm’s hall and saw Jaebum’s parents standing in front of his room’s door. Then he began heavily limping as he tried to reach them quickly.

“Take your time,” Mr. Im told him after having heard the crutches squeaking and Youngjae’s gasps.

Youngjae stopped by a room a few doors down from his, and knocked on the door a few times with his fist closed. It was Yugyeom and Bambam’s room.

“Jaebum’s parents are here.”

Still a bit out of breath, Youngjae bowed, greeting the couple. “I’m sorry. I lost track of time in the practice room. I even set an alarm but –”

“It’s alright,” Jaebum’s mother offered a small smile. “We knocked a few times and since no one replied, we figured you were in class or doing something important. It’s not like we’re in a hurry.”

“Alright,” Youngjae let out a relieved sigh as he opened the door of his room and walked in, “come on in then.”

He threw his notebook over his bed and then turned around, awkwardly looking at the couple. What was he supposed to do now?

“Uh, Yugyeom and Bambam should be here in a bit. Jackson wanted to come over but he has classes now. I don’t think Jinyoung has classes but he’s… still adapting. He sometimes even pushes us away, so don’t take it personally.”

“Of course not,” Jaebum’s father said. “Is he recovering well?”

“The doctor says to take it one day at a time, and Jinyoung knows it, but there are days when he doesn’t deal it very well.”

The three shared a sigh; no one was having it easy.

“This was Jaebum’s bed?” his mother pointed at the neatly made bed.

Youngjae nodded slightly, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, “Sometimes he’d fall asleep in my bed. I’d put up a movie in my laptop, we’d both sit here,” he looked back at his bed as if he was seeing Jaebum right there, “sharing snacks and when I notice he’d be snoring in my ear.”

There was a faint smile in Mrs. Im’s face as she tried to imagine what her son’s roommate was describing.

“You know, when he was home during vacation, there was not a day he didn’t talk about you, Youngjae. He really liked you. He liked you so much that I sometimes wondered if you two –”

“No, no,” Youngjae quickly interjected, “we were not…”

And then he got sad because part of him wished that they were together, because ever since his death, Youngjae’s feelings had been all over there place and he was confused, and memories and 'what ifs' were all he had left to remember Jaebum by.

Yugyeom and Bambam showed up, hair tousled, tired expressions adorning their faces, an unfamiliar whiff that Youngjae couldn’t put his finger on coming from their bodies. Youngjae, Jackson and Jinyoung had no idea of what was going on between those two, but they were expecting that they’d eventually tell them about it, instead of having to squeeze it out of them.

The two of them greeted the couple and found themselves a spot in between the desk and the wall, and simply stood there, hoping that they didn't look like they were uncomfortable.

“Uh, so,” Youngjae began awkwardly, “we put his clothes in these,” he pointed at one of the three boxes over Jaebum’s former bed, “and this one has his other stuff.”

“Ok. Any of you can help me taking –”

Yugyeom cut Jaebum’s father short, “I will.”

He accidentally elbowed Bambam as he rushed to pick one of the boxes and follow the man to his car.

“That notebook he had where he wrote his songs…” the woman began. “Where is it?”

“Ah, it’s in that box,” Youngjae told her.

He casted a look at his friend once Mrs. Im started rummaging the box, searching for said notebook. But if Youngjae didn’t understand why she was looking for it, Bambam did. She turned to Youngjae and handed him (or at least tried) the notebook. He looked at woman, confused.

“Take it, Youngjae.”

He was still staring and Bambam, leaning against the desk, glared him, hoping that Youngjae could read in his eyes that he was internally screaming ‘take it!’. Jaebum’s mother nodded her head, in a way of assuring him that she was sure of her action, and offered him the notebook again.

“I can’t take it, Mrs. Im.”

“It’ll have no use to me. You’re the best person to keep it. Make a use of it.”

“And Mr. Im?” Youngjae asked, timidly grabbing the notebook. “He won’t mind if I keep it?”

“We’ve have talked about this on the way here. You know, when Jaebum last visited us for Chuseok, he was always with this notebook, writing songs. Every once in a while I’d hear him say ‘ _Maybe Youngjae can help me with this part_ ’. If there’s someone who should keep and make use of Jaebum’s songs, it should be you.”

Youngjae hugged the notebook against his chest and bowed, “Thank you.”

She smiled a little, “You already claimed property of his sweatshirt. What’s a notebook compared to it?”

He bit his lip, the tip of his ears going red. Maybe it hadn’t been his finest move to wear Jaebum’s large red hoodie (that was even larger on him) on the day his parents were visiting, but he needed it that day; when he was anxious about something, wearing Jaebum’s shirts made him feel calm and safe. 

For Youngjae’s sake, Yugyeom and Mr. Im returned.

The man grabbed the last box and turned to his wife, “Should we get going?”

She nodded, “Yes. I still want to go to his grave later today.”

The three boys swallowed hard; the last – and only – time they’ve been to Jaebum’s grave was on the day of his funeral. They refused to go there, at least for the time being, because it was all still too recent and they were still processing.

“Boys,” Mrs. Im’s voice got their attention, “thank you for everything.” She bit her lip, trying not to cry in front of them, “Thank you for being Jaebum’s friends. If you need anything, anything at all, you can count on us.”

Youngjae, Bambam and Yugyeom bowed and walked them to the car in silence. They watched them drive away until they lost sight of the car.

“Well, I have a really hard dance routine to practice,” Yugyeom said, “The guys should be waiting for me already.”

The maknae pressed a chaste peck on Bambam’s lips and made his way to the dance room where all the Dance major students practiced. Youngjae was staring, bewildered. When did _that_ happen?

Bambam tried to hold back his chuckle but failed. He draped one arm around Youngjae’s shoulders.

“I’ll tell you ‘bout it if you take a walk with me.”

“You can tell me inside. Crutches aren’t very practical –”

“Nope, if you wanna know, you gotta come with me,” Bambam said over his shoulder as he walked away.

Youngjae sighed and followed him; he knew why he was doing this, and deep inside he was grateful that his friends cared. Ever since the accident, Youngjae had been living between classes, the dorm rooms (his and his friends’) and the practice room that had the grand piano. It had been weeks since he had stepped outside.

~x~

_Jaebum was lying on his stomach, having been thrown out the van, pulling Youngjae by the wrist. He was looking at him through half-lidded eyes, spitting blood and heavily wheezing. Jaebum just wanted to die. Between the tumbles inside the van and the hard landing on the tarmac, Jaebum’s ribcage had been crushed, his ribs perforating deeper and deeper into his fleshy organs. He could feel the blood filling his body, suffocating him, and the only thought in Jaebum’s head was that he wanted to die. But first, he wanted to make sure his friends were alright. Everyone was unconscious; Bambam was mumbling some things but ended up passing out too. Only Youngjae was awake and suffering as much as he was. So Jaebum fought the will to die for a little longer, so that, at least, he could attenuate Youngjae’s pain. He grabbed his donsaeng’s wrist with all the strength he could muster, which was none, and tried to pull him._

_“Hyung, I can’t,” Youngjae bawled, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’m stuck!”_

_“I know,” he coughed up blood, “it hurts,” more blood, “but try, Jae.” More blood, this time accompanied by a painful wheezing sound that made Youngjae’s heart drop to his stomach. “Try. For hyung.”_

_“Stop,” Youngjae cried. “You’re hurting yourself.”_

_Jaebum held Youngjae’s wrist with both his hands and pulled him. His face scrunched up and he groaned loudly, the pain in his chest being unbearable. Youngjae screamed as well but his leg was freed. He crawled closer to Jaebum, giving himself a couple of cuts because of the shattered glass on the pavement, and helped him lying on his back. He had one arm under his head, keeping it propped up._

_“The boys –”_

_Youngjae looked back, “They’re all unconscious.”_

_“I have to h –”_

_“No. You need to lay here and wait for help.”_

_Lightheaded, Youngjae looked around. He locked eyes with a man from the car they had crashed into. He didn’t seem too injured._

_“I’m calling an ambulance,” the man, clearly dazed, shouted at Youngjae._

_“See?” Youngjae swallowed hard, “Help’s on the way.”_

_“Hyung w – won’t la – la – last that long.”_

_“Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Help is on the way and we’re all gonna be fine.”_

_A small smile tugged on the corner of Jaebum’s lips, “It’s okay, angel.”_

_“No, stop,” Youngjae was still in denial, watching his friend slowly succumbing in his arms. “You're gonna be fine and you'll continue to help me because I don't know how to be strong and independent like you. You'll nag me so much about it but it's ok. I know it's because you care. I know it's because you care. I care about you as much as you care about me. I hope you know that. I hope... I hope you know I lo –”_

_Youngjae’s tears dripped off his chin and fell on Jaebum’s face. Dealing with all the pain he was feeling was already hard; feeling Youngjae’s hot tears falling on his face made it harder._

_“Hyung, talk to me.”_

_“I will… always b… be with you. Wherever...”_

_Jaebum’s eyes fluttered close but Youngjae didn’t notice it; the deafening sound of the ambulances’ sirens in the distance made him smile._

_“They’re coming, hyung.” He shook him, “Jaebum hyung?”_

_Jaebum let out a low, soft breath, and his head lolled back in Youngjae’s arm._

_“Jaebum hyung?” Youngjae yelled, a stream of tears rushing down his face. “Yah! Im Jaebum! Jaebum-ah, awake up! The ambulances are here.” he rested Jaebum’s head on the ground and smacked his chest, gritting his teeth in anger. "Awake up!” Youngjae shouted at the paramedics, his voice strained. “Over here!”_

_He sat back and watched the EMT approaching Jaebum’s motionless body. He didn’t even take a minute to declare his death._

_“Do something!” he shouted at the woman when she tried to tend to his injuries. “Help him, not me!”_

_“I need to immobilize your leg –”_

_Youngjae pushed her away, “Help the others! Go away! I’m fine!”_

_“Jaebumie…?” Youngjae rested his forehead on Jaebum’s chest and cried hard. “You can’t be gone. Don’t do this to me. Hyung, wake up! You can’t be gone… Hyung, please!”_

_An EMT tried to pull Youngjae away, but he was gripping Jaebum’s clothes, refusing to let go of him. When a second paramedic showed up, he ended being forcefully pulled away from his friend’s lifeless body._

Youngjae awoke up far too calm for someone who just had relived one of the hardest moments of his life. He was starting to get used to the nightmares. Maybe one day the nightmares would turn into a dream in which he somehow managed to save Jaebum. He sat up, Jaebum’s notebook left on top of the desk, catching his attention. He always left everything lying around and always told him he could borrow anything if he wanted. However, Youngjae wasn’t one to snoop around, so even though he could, he had only read the songs that Jaebum had showed him.

He got up and limped the few steps to the desk. He took a seat at the chair and opened the notebook, flipping through the scribbled pages. He was sleepy and not necessarily paying attention to what he was reading until he got to one of the last pages. ‘ _For Youngjae´ was_ written on the top of the paper in a tiny, but neat calligraphy; he was fully awake now. On the first line Youngjae read the song’s title, _1:31 AM_. The lyrics weren’t finished, many words, and even full sentences, had been crossed out and rewritten. Youngjae felt an urge to grab a pen and finish the song right away because he knew exactly what he wanted to add, but tears were welling up in his eyes. He felt more confused than ever; what did they really felt for each other?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was super heartless of me to have JB die in Youngjae's arms but I love the heartbreaking drama.
> 
> Because I'm extremely methodic when writing, I just had to leave this on the notes, to explain Jinyoung's stuttering problem. He sustained a brain injury from the impact, which affected his front lobe where the Broca's area (controls the muscles of speech) are located. As a result, he is suffering of a condition called disfluency, commonly known as stuttering. Also, he has difficulty coping with the accident, and its implications (his stuttering problem and Jaebum's death) not only because it was a traumatic experience but also because a head trauma can cause effects such as mood changes or difficulty dealing with emotions.


	4. My 'Flight Log' trilogy theory

This is my theory for what happened in the whole ‘Flight Log’ trilogy. I didn’t apply all the details of this theory to this fanfiction. You are free to agree/disagree with my theory. You can also discuss it with me if you wish.

So, my theory is explained dividing the boys into three units. You’ve got to remember that in the ‘Hard Carry’ MV, there are three cars, which means that they got hit at least twice. When the second car hit them, they fell into the water, and from what I understand, there were three members inside the car when it happened. Whatever happened, it’s implied in the MV that Jinyoung nearly died drowning. This is also implied in the ‘Flight Log: Arrival’ trailer when he says that the last thing he remembers is drowning. Also I’m assuming that they crashed shortly after Jinyoung fell asleep (‘Flight Log: Departure’ trailer). So, the three groups are:

1 – Jackson and Bambam

They are the members that were the least affected by the accident. I think that they were the ones who were well enough to call help (in the ‘Hard Carry’ MV, they are the two we see in/near the ambulance). Neither Jackson nor Bambam fell into the water. They both got out of the car before the second hit.

2 – Mark and Yugyeom

Just like Jackson and Bambam, they didn’t fell into to the water either. But, these are the two members who we didn’t see much, so it’s hard to theorize about what happened to them. I’m assuming that they were not badly injured, but they are the one who can’t help much in the beginning because they are both disorientated (in the ‘Hard Carry’ MV they are the only two whose scenes have blurry effects; Mark is even seen kind of stumbling as he gets up). Corroborating this is the fact that when the boys jump into the water to pull Jinyoung out, Mark is the one who grabs him, meaning he/they was/were feeling slightly better to help.

3 – JB, Youngjae and Jinyoung

Aka the ones that were in deep shit. Jinyoung was asleep, so there was no way he could actively resist what was happening. He’s unconscious and depends on the other two members who are trapped in the car with him to be rescued.

In the ‘Hard Carry’ MV JB is singing in a set with trees. They seem to represent is vital signs; the first time we see them they are green (alive), the second time we see them, they are dead. We also see him opening a gate (probably representing one of the car doors he manages to open while underwater). That scene then directs to Youngjae who’s opening the bird cage.

I’ll get to the bird cage in a bit. First, in Youngjae’s scene in ‘Hard Carry’, he sings in front of Jinyoung who’s drowning. We see that he breaks the glass cage in which he’s trapped (probably representing him breaking a window). After that Jinyoung is rescued, so we don’t have to worry about him. But, JB is still in there, and according to my theory he’s already dead.

Going back to the bird cage. The bird that is in there is the one that JB was always seen with, so let’s say that JB is now that bird. When we see Youngjae opening the bird cage, he tries to get the bird out but it won’t move from the corner of the cage. Eventually he gets it out, cradling it in his hands. If the bird is meant to represent JB, then what I understand is that after Jinyoung is rescued, Youngjae notices the unconscious JB (motionless bird) and pulls him to surface (cradling the bird in his hands), which he succeeds in doing.

The people who rescue Jinyoung are Mark, Jackson, Yugyeom and Bambam. Yes, JB is also there but I’ll explain his presence is irrelevant (you’ll understand why in a bit). So, what I can conclude is that Youngjae got to the surface first and asked for the boys help to rescue both Jinyoung and JB. The boys pull Jinyoung to safety first and Youngjae enters the water after them to get JB out.

Also, if you well remember, in the 'Hard Carry' MV, Jinyoung lifts off the ground (symbolizing his soul leaving his body, but the boys bring him back down, in this case, memories of them). However, in the 'Flight Log: Departure' trailer, we see JB lifting off the bed where he was lying down, but, in his case, no one brings him back down, which means his soul left his body (he died).

*In case you never noticed there are two scenes that happen really fast in the ‘Hard Carry’ and that help explain my theory’s “plot holes”. You’ve got to put the MV’s speed in 0.25 to notice them.

(Why I think Youngjae is the one who rescues JB) At 1:57 – Youngjae is dressed in all white, looking like an angel (which he is, but moving on…), in the plane crash site, right next to the bird cage.

(JB’s irrelevant presence in Jinyoung’s rescue scene) At 2:49 – JB is in the water but he isn’t grabbing Jinyoung. He’s just literally floating there, looking dead.

I hope my explanation was confusing.

****'FLIGHT LOG' TRILOGY THEORY 2.0****

I decided to add a few more details to my theory now that the 'Never Ever' teaser and Making Film were dropped. There's nothing different about my initial theory, there are only complementary elements to it that help supporting my thoughts. Mostly, this update clarifies Jinyoung's current health state.  
  
Update theory: Jaebum is dead and Jinyoung is in vegetative state (after having been revived).  
  
Fact #1 - Jinyoung is awake, in a glass cage, surrounded by vegetation.  
  
So, I can only associate two things:  
-The vegetation with vegetative state;  
-The cage with his lack of cognitive functions; he's "trapped" inside his body, unable to express himself.  
  
Note that:  
The vegetative state is a chronic or long-term condition. Patients in a vegetative state may have awoken from a coma, but still have not regained awareness. In the vegetative state patients can open their eyelids occasionally and demonstrate sleep-wake cycles, but completely lack cognitive function.  
  
Jinyoung's lack of cognitive functions are also hinted in the 'Flight Log: Arrival' trailer in which we never hear Jinyoung's voice. The subtitles are Jinyoung's thoughts. His thoughts/memories are what are helping fight his state and regain awareness again. Also, everything that Jinyoung thinks of, subconsciously, has a meaning. Check [this](http://jackseunie.tumblr.com/post/157844601611/arrival-trailer-dream-symbolism) Tumblr post in which are explained the dream symbolism in the trailer.  
  
Fact #2 - JB rides in a car without a driver, and that has flowers in the backseat.  
  
-Linear conclusion: he's dead. The car is actually a funeral car. He's "making his last trip"  
  
Fact #3 - Everyone is mourning JB's death  
  
-Everyone is seen wearing black/dark clothes, being Jinyoung and Youngjae the only exceptions  
  
Jinyoung is wearing pajamas, which is suitable since he's at the hospital (as his stay is long-termed and not short-termed, he's not wearing an hospital gown)  
  
Youngjae, as it happened in the 'Hard Carry' MV, is wearing white (mentioned above). Again. I believe that he's given the white clothes to identify him as the angel-like character, as the hard carrier. As you know, the hard carrier of a group is the person who plays the most important role, takes the lead, and brings the losing team to victory. Youngjae is the hard carrier. Also, he is, once again, seen in the 'Never Ever' MV breaking the glass cage in which Jinyoung is trapped.  
  
  
~~I swear that if my theory is right, I'm getting on the next flight to Korea to beg JYP-nim to give me a spot as a concept creator for GOT7's future comebacks.~~


	5. Change

_“If hope is a taste, what is yours? What you eat all day?”_

_– “Change” by Rap Monster ft. Wale_

~x~

_A few years later_

Jackson was so tired and jetlagged that even the floor seemed like a good place to lie down and sleep. ‘Home sweet home’, Jackson thought as he entered home, somewhat sarcastically, dragging his luggage behind him, and leaving it on the front door’s hallway, because why not? He was in another realm, his brain wrecked. Jackson never finished college, but one lucky audition made him hyper successful. He made a life being a MC both in China and Korea. Despite having two houses, one in each country, he spent more time on a plane than at home. His bed always felt weird at first, but after taking a hot shower that relaxed his muscles, slipping into clean pajamas, and sliding under the bedsheets, Jackson would fall asleep like a baby. He was good as dead for the world. Tonight was no exception. He woke up in the next morning, hearing the soft steps of someone walking in the house. He rolled out of bed, his feet guiding his still sleep-heavy body to the living room.

His luggage wasn’t by the front door, his clothes, washed and ironed, were laid out over the couch and the chairs of the dining table, the dishes he had left on the sink had been washed and put away.

“Good morning, Hyunjoo-ssi,” Jackson said in a yawn, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes.

“Oh,” Hyunjoo, his housemaid, turned to face him, “good morning, Jackson-ssi. I didn’t awake you, did I?”

“No, you didn’t,” he offered a sleepy smile.

"I've done your laundry, but didn't want to disturb you, so I was only going to put it the closet once you'd get up."

“I’m sorry I left my stuff everywhere but I was exhausted.”

“I was hired to clean up after you, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I’m not usually this messy. I didn’t even wash the dishes before leaving.” He walked over to the couch and grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “My manager told my flight had been rescheduled because of the weather so I had to leave in a hurry.”

“Yes, I noticed. There was still food on the plate I washed. Have you been eating properly?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jackson mumbled, purposely avoiding his housemaid’s concerned gaze; she reminded him a lot of his mother. Deep down, he liked it. 

"Jackson-ssi, food supplements, vitamins, and protein shakes do not replace real food. You are a person who cares about your health; you should not act like this.”

“I know. Thank you for caring, Hyunjoo-ssi,” he rubbed her upper arm caringly.

The woman sighed, “Should I prepare you breakfast or are you leaving?”

“Ah, no, I have the day all for myself today. I’m gonna run a couple of errands, go to the gym, relax a bit, so don’t bother preparing breakfast. I can do it –”

“Nonsense,” Hyunjoo was already on the way to the kitchen, “I’ll prepare you breakfast while you get ready.”

“Thank you, you’re an angel, Hyunjoo-ssi,” Jackson spoke in a loud tone so that the woman could hear him.

~x~

“These photos are great, Mark-ssi,” the photographer praised, taking a few more photos.

Mark showed a little smile, but quickly schooled his expression, and continued to brush his teeth while sexily looking into the camera. He was doing a photoshoot for an underwear brand, and this was his last but one set. He was in a bathroom, barefoot, shirtless, basketball shorts dangling off his skinny hips just enough to show the underwear’s waistband. Every once in a while he smiled a smirk or ruffled the hair on the back of head. He'd be lying if he'd say he wasn't a bit proud of being the cause of a few female coordinators' blush.

“Alright. This unit shoot is complete. Get him ready for the next set.”

Both Mark and the photographer were all about realism in their photoshoots, but he had been brushing his teeth for the past twenty minutes. So, once he heard the man’s words, Mark happily spit the toothpaste in the sink and rinsed his mouth. He then joined the photographer who was going through the photos he had just taken and earned a few more praises from him. After that, Mark was directed to a small room that was an improvised dressing, makeup, and hairdressing room. His fluffy bed hair hairstyle was now going to be brushed and straightened for the final shooting of the day. His makeup was also retouched and then he slipped into the new clothes: low top sneakers, jeans and a white shirt. The shirt was completely unbuttoned and his jeans were, similarly to the shorts he wore earlier, dangling off his hips so that the underwear’s brand was visible.

“Let’s do a couple of shots leaning on that wall,” the photographer said as soon as he saw Mark.

Mark nodded, assuming the position he was asked. He leaned back against the wall, putting his left hand behind his head. The photographer, who was starting to question his straight sexuality, nearly choked on his own saliva when he turned and saw Mark.

He prepared the camera, “Do you think you can do something with your right hand too? Put it in your pocket,...?”

Acting cool or sexy always made Mark feel awkward but he went the extra mile. Instead of following the photographer’s suggestion, he hooked his thumb on the waistband of the jeans and slightly tugged it a little further down. He also bit his lip, which wasn’t at all necessary, and arched one of his eyebrows. Mark relished on watching the photographer’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he photographed him. He wasn’t at all trying to seduce the man, or anyone in that set, but he enjoyed knowing that he could provoke such reactions on people. 

A couple of shots later, Mark was asked to move to the couch for another round of photographs. This time he was asked to act less sexy and more adorable. That was something Mark could do much more naturally without feeling awkward. The sound of his giggles was now echoing on the set and everyone was smiling thanks to him. He posed on the couch in almost all positions imaginable, sitting, lying down, resting back, lying upside down.

That last batch of photos were snapped pretty quickly, and Mark didn’t even realize how fast it ended until the photographer announced the end of the photoshoot. Before going to slip back into his clothes, Mark bowed and thanked everyone for their work and for the way they treated him throughout the whole day. On the way to the car, his manager brought him up to speed on all the additional details regarding the photoshoot, mainly when and where the photos were scheduled to be released.

“I’m going to Jackson’s tonight,” Mark told his manager as he entered the car.

“Alright. Put his address in the GPS.”

~x~

“Let’s take it from the top, yaedeul-a?” Yugyeom asked as he walked over to the stereo system. “If you do all the steps correctly, we'll call it a day.”

“Um, seonsaeng-nim?” one tired voice said.

Despite being a choreographer for the past four years, Yugyeom still felt his stomach doing a backflip when someone address to him as such. But being the ‘seonsaeng-nim’ had been his choice. Still to this day Yugyeom thanked Bambam for having insisting so much that he’d go to New York to learn from the best dancers in the world. He tagged along, to learn from the best fashion designers. The couple spent eight fruitful but tiring months learning from masters. When they returned to Korea, Yugyeom and Bambam had it much easier to find jobs as a choreographer and a fashion designer, respectively.

Yugyeom turned around, “Yes, Jaejin-ssi?”

“I – uh – still have some problems doing the crisscross-spin-glide part so – I’ll work hard on it, promise, but,” the boy paused to suck in a deep breath, “can we just do the entire choreo once and then you let us go to the dorms because –”

“I know, you’re tired and you want to watch the MAMA Awards,” Yugyeom offered a smile. “Lucky you, I want to watch it too, and I know you’ve been working hard, so we’ll go through the choreography once and you’re free for the evening.”

“Thank you seonsaeng-nim,” a choir of five voices – the Lucky Ace’s voices – happily chirped.

With his thumb hoovering over the ‘play’ button, Yugyeom continued, “C’mon, get to your positions. I’ll be watching you, I’ll pick up your mistakes or difficulties and we’ll work on them tomorrow.”

Yugyeom pressed the button and crouched in front of them, leaning back on his haunches, so that he could pay attention to everyone’s moves. The song hadn’t even reached the chorus when the practice room’s door slowly swung open, a white-dyed-haired head popped in. Yugyeom noticed the visitor and beckoned with his hand to his boyfriend to enter. Bambam quietly walked in and sat on the couch on the corner of the room, so that he wasn't standing in the way of anyone. Instead of watching the group dance, his gaze was on Yugyeom. He had _that_ glimmer in his eyes that made Bambam’s heart beat a little faster. Yugyeom loved to dance and it was written all over his face. That was why he loved that twinkle in his boyfriend’s eyes.

Once they finished dancing, the boys bowed to Bambam, greeting him. Yugyeom was congratulating them, handing over some water bottles. Bambam, being a fashionista, had been dying speak ever since he laid eyes on that particular member. He pointed at the boy who was wearing a leopard-patterned sleeveless shirt, baggy green pants and Timberland boots.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

His statement earned a collective laugh.

The oldest of the group tapped the other boy’s shoulder and said, “Minjun-ie is a fashion terrorist, right?”

“Never dress up like that again,” Bambam pled. “Please. Even if it’s only to come to the studio to practice. Just don't.”

Minjun provided a mocking salute, but accepted Bambam’s advice nonetheless. One by one, the boys bid their farewells to their choreographer and his boyfriend, and walked out the door in shuffled steps. Yugyeom lied down on the couch, facing up, head resting on Bambam’s legs.

“Carry me home, please,” Yugyeom whined.

“Yeah,” Bambam chuckled, “that’s exactly what I had in mind when I thought of showing up.”

“How do you even manage to enter here?”

Bambam grinned, “I can be very persuasive.”

“That I know,” Yugyeom’s eyes lulled shut as his boyfriend rubbed slow circles in his chest. “We need to go home first. I have to shower and change clothes.”

“Agreed,” Bambam said. “You’re disgusting.” The youngest cracked one eye open at that. “What? It’s true! You’re all sticky and smelly. Jinyoung will have you seating at least a mile away from him if you show up like this.”

“I know,” Yugyeom mumbled, sitting up. “Let’s get going then?”

~x~

Between the peaks and valleys caused by the Seoul's buildings, the horizon was visible and the sun was now a fading yellow circle traveling towards the skyline in between the shades of orange and light-brown that colored the sky. The shadows extended themselves on the floor, the leaves of the tall trees were caressed by a light, cold breeze, and, in the distance, it was possible to hear the traffic rush.

Jinyoung felt the cold air seeping through his clothes, chilling him to the bone, but he was solely focused on feeling the scene’s mood and act it out with all his might. However, the chilly breeze was making his eyes teary. His sight was getting blurred as cold-induced tears threatened to rush down his face. The director noticed it.

“Cut!” the director shouted.

As soon as he heard the word, Jinyoung’s body immediately shivered. He could finally let on how cold he was feeling.

“I’m so sorry,” he bowed to the crew and to Eunji, the actress he was sharing the scene with, in a form of apology, “The wind is making my eyes teary.”

“It’s alright. We just need one more shot from a different angle and we’re done for the day.”

While the director was chatting with the camera operators and other crew members, the two actors were surrounded by coordinators who were warming them up, fixing their hair and makeup. Jinyoung was approached by two coordi-noonas. One brought her makeup set, the other approached Jinyoung from behind, draped a long puffy jacket over his shoulders and pressed two hot packs against his ears.

“Ah,” he sighed contentedly while fitting his arms in the jacket’s arm holes, “thank you so much. And I’m sorry for keep on ruining the makeup."

The makeup artist smiled as she gently dabbed his cheekbones with a pad, wiping away his tears, “It’s alright, Jinyoung-ssi.”

The coordinators eventually walked away, leaving the actors on standby, waiting for the director's order. He closed the distance between him and Eunji and snuck his hot packs in his jacket's pockets.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "but this is my third consecutive outdoor scene. I can’t feel my hands and feet anymore. "

Eunji gently nudged him on the side, a smile tugging on the corner of her lips, "You've got nothing to apology, Jinyoung-ssi. Today's 0 degrees, it's absolutely normal that you're feeling cold. Let's just focus on shooting this scene well so we can wrap it up for today, alright?"

"Ready?" The director asked, looking at the two actors.

They handed over the warm coats and assumed their positions again. Jinyoung breathed in thoroughly, his lines returning to his mind. It was as if the button switched on in his head and Jinyoung was in actor mode again when the director shouted 'action'. The scene came out perfect and, just as promised, the filming day was ended. Jinyoung was eager to go home and get warm. The next scenes he had to shoot were in an indoor scenario, and they weren’t due for another three days, so he was excited about the thought of having a few days to relax and practice his lines.

“Hey, Jinyoung-ssi?” a female voice called him just as he was ready to leave. He turned around to find Eunji, “Donghyun-ssi, Minkyu-ssi and Subin-ah chatted earlier, about going for a couple of drinks after the shooting. I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”

Jinyoung offered a small smile, “I’m sorry. I really can’t today.”

“It’s alright.”

Even though he didn’t have to, Jinyoung felt the need to explain himself, partially because he didn’t want to seem rude for refusing the invitation, and also because he was really proud of what was happening that night.

“The MAMA Awards are tonight and a friend of mine is nominated. Me and a couple of other friends planned on getting together to watch it.”

“Oh, that’s so great. Congratulations to your friend. I hope he wins.”

“We’re sure he will,” Jinyoung grinned.

“Not wanting to intrude or anything, who’s he? Do I know him?”

“Youngjae, Choi Youngjae. You might now him as Ars. He’s nominated for Best Male Artist, Album of the Year, and Song of the Year.”

“You know, I’m not saying this just because he’s your friend but I really love his album. It's so... wow!” 

Jinyoung smiled, “I’ll be sure to tell him when I get the chance.”

“Ok, I’ll let you go, since we both have places to be. We’ll be rooting for him too.”

“Thanks. See you on our next day of shooting?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

~x~

The night at Jackson’s was eventful as the friends ate, drank and chatted. Yugyeom had already taken a nap and no one knew if they should call him a little baby or an old man for having done so. Currently, the five of them were gathered in front of the TV, watching the MAMA Awards. They had already hoorayed Youngjae’s Best Male Artist win. As the ceremony continued, anxiety curled into their stomachs as they waited for the granting of the Daesangs for Song, Album and Artist of the Year. When Youngjae appeared on the screen, looking as gorgeous as always in a three-piece black suit, honey-color dyed hair, he smiled and waved at the camera.

“Aw,” Jackson cooed when he saw him, “look at my baby otter. So cute.”

“Jackson, please, you’re barely a year older than him,” Jinyoung pointed out.

“Whatever. He’s still my little baby otter.”

Yugyeom frowned, “If Youngjae is a baby then what am I to you? A fetus?”

“Something like that. Ah, stop it,” Jackson grumbled, being smack by a pillow in the face.

“This is for the Best Dance Performance Male Group. Let's meet the nominees,” the presenter said.

Jackson was still complaining, “Giant baby…”

“Shh, shh!” Yugyeom ordered, pressing his index against his lips. “I wanna watch this category.”

While the nominees were being presented, a name caught Jinyoung’s attention, “You’ve choreographed for AToMic, didn’t you?”

“And for C.O.D.E.,” Bambam supplied.

“Wow, double the chances for Gyeomie to be recognized,” Mark said.

Yugyeom hadn’t yet teared his gaze away from the TV as they announced, “And the Best Dance Performance Male Group Award goes to…”

The presenter read the name of the winner but didn’t announce it right away. The fans cheered loudly and the wait was unbearable.

“Ah,” the maknae grumbled, “why do they drag it for so long?”

“For the suspense,” Jinyoung pointed out only to have his mouth clamped by Yugyeom’s hand.

“C.O.D.E.” the presenter finally said.

“Wo-hoo! A song I choreographed won Best Dance Performance!” Yugyeom was ecstatic, putting kisses onto everyone’s foreheads, pressing a special kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

The leader of the group took the award and, followed by his bandmates, approached the microphones.

“Wow!” That was the first thing that left the leader’s mouth. “Thank you so much for such a huge award. Thank you to our fans who are always supporting us.” He made a brief pause to hear their fans cheering them. “Thank you so much. And we'd also like to thank our seonsaeng-nim Kim Yugyeom –”

No one at Jackson’s house heard what C.O.D.E. said after Yugyeom’s name as he was excitedly pointing at the TV. Cute shouldn’t be a word to describe a man who was almost in his thirties but, at the moment, Yugyeom was downright adorable.

“That’s me, suckers! He said my name! They acknowledged me!”

Dropping his name on their speech inflated Yugyeom’s ego but his friends let it slide this one time; out of all of them, Yugyeom was the only one who hadn’t yet been properly praised for his work. After a while, he calmed down. The friends continued to watch the awards ceremony, only to watch Youngjae lose the first of the two daesangs he was nominated for. He was still on the run for Album of the Year and when the category was being presented, the five of them felt as nervous as Youngjae. For the first time that night there was silence. The winner was announced; Ars. The camera panned to Youngjae, who was mouth agape, looking around at the other artist that sat near him. Finally something clicked in his brain and he got up, making the way to the stage. He stood there for a few seconds, looking at the thousands of people before him. He had been in up in that earlier that night, but this time was different; this time was Album of the Year.

“Hi. Wow, I can’t believe this.” He made a short pause before continuing, “I promise I’ll try to do this as fast as I can. So, I’d like to, first of all, thank this award to all of my fans. Without you, I wouldn’t be standing here. Seriously, this award is as yours as it is mine. Second of all, I’d like to extend my thanks to my manager, to my company, to the producers who work with me, to all the staff who relentlessly stays by my side and helps me make what I love the most, which is music. I’d also like to thank the people who make me the person I am: my parents, my siblings, my whole family, really. A big thank you to my friends who are watching me at home right now,” Youngjae sweetly waved his hand at the camera. “Despite the fact that we all have busy schedules, we always manage to meet up. I treasure that effort a lot, so thank you to each one of you. And lastly, I’d like to thank to someone who’s very special to me and who unfortunately isn’t among us anymore.” He swallowed a lump in his throat before continuing, “Hyung, even though your presence in my life was short, the effect it had on me is everlasting. I really wish you could be here tonight, cheering me. I really wish I could be in the audience, cheering you as you’d come up to this stage to accept an award. I really wanted to have won awards with you too but…” He heaved a deep breath, “Hyung, wherever you are, I hope you know that you truly changed my life. You said you’d always be with me, and believe me, I feel you around every now and then.”

Youngjae thanked the audience, bowed and left the stage. He had promised himself he wouldn’t cry, and so he made the effort to hold back his tears. Today was a day to happily remember, his first time winning a daesang. Scratch that; he was taking home _two fucking daesangs_! Best Male Artist and Album of the Year! He still couldn’t believe it. What a time to be alive, Youngjae thought. Once he was congratulated by the people he met along the way, his manager showed up in front of him, almost out of thin air. He handed him his phone that hadn’t stopped buzzing all night; his family and friends had bombarded him with dozens of texts.

On the way to the hotel, Youngjae busied himself replying to the text messages and uploading a selca with the two trophies on his social media accounts. When he was at his room, the excitement of the spotlight was washing away. He didn’t even bother turning on the lights. His feet carried him to the bathroom. He sat on the tiled floor, back resting against the door as his finger hovered over the ‘call’ button. Youngjae knew he shouldn’t do it but he felt like he needed to. He pressed ‘call’ and put the phone against his ear. He knew that no one was going to pick his call but still he waited because what he wanted was to hear the voicemail message.

“ _Hi. This is Im Jaebum. I’m sorry I cannot answer your call right now. Please leave your message or call me later._ ”

Hearing Jaebum’s voice was enough to make Youngjae cry. Once the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream down his cheeks. He knew that one day he’d have to stop doing this; calling his phone just so that he could hear the voicemail message. After the beep, he started saying everything that was on his mind. He knew that one day he’d have to stop doing this; calling his phone just so that he could feel like he was talking with him. But today was not the day. And he knew that that day would never come. When days were rougher or when he missed him a little more than usual, Youngjae would call him only to listen to his voice in the voicemail message and pour his heart out. Getting up to his feet, Youngjae washed his face and placed a hand on his chest, over his heart. He heaved a long sigh and reached for his phone again, this time to text Jackson.

**Jacks**

>I’m supposed to arrive tomorrow on the 13:50 plane. Talk with the rest of the boys and tell ‘em dinner’s on me?  

_1:36  
_

Done!<

Everyone’s available but Gyeom is only free after eight.<

_1:40  
_

>That was fast!

_1:42  
_

They’re at my place!! We were watching you man!<

_1:42  
_

>Oh…We meet at nine then?

_1:42  
_

All set.<

_1:43  
_

Skewers restaurant downtown? You know, our fav?<

_1:44  
_

>Sure. See you guys tomorrow.

_1:45  
_

See ya Jae.<

And congrats! From all of us.<

_1:46  
_

>Thanks guys. :)

_1:48  
_

Youngjae felt better now. A lot better. He changed into his pajamas - a pair of sweatpants and Jaebum's baggy hoodie that Youngjae still kept - and dragged his tired body to bed. But, before getting some sleep, he opened his phone’s note creator.

_“If life is an equation, you’re the only constant I need. If life is a series of touch-and-go, you’re the only one I want to touch and never let go. We only say goodbye to the people we never want to meet ever again. But I want to meet you again, one day, no matter how far in the future that day comes. So, to you, I say ‘see you soon’, even if for now ‘soon’ means keeping good memories of you in my heart. And when at last I find you, your voice will fill the air. Speak louder so that I can find you faster and hug you and tell you how much I’ve missed you.”_


End file.
